This Spring, there are rats.
They run around my yard.
I know that I can’t chase them.
It’s really, really hard.

Mom called some guy.
He put little boxes around.
I don’t know what’s in them.
They don’t make a sound.

I want to taste the boxes.
I think they have some treats.
Dad won’t let me sniff them.
That means it may be sweets.

There’s a rat on the porch.
I think he’s playing dead.
I thought he tasted funny,
When I crunched his little head.

Dad made me drop the rat.
“Leave it!”, he squawks.
I think the rat smelled funny.
He smelled like the little box.

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